Nocturna
by ArbitraryFate
Summary: Years later, Newt would realize that it was his hatred of conflict, his eagerness to be bustled, his desire to go with the flow that had led to some of the best, and worst, moments of his life at Hogwarts.


Newt fiddled with his tie nervously, as he tried to ignore the overwhelming sound of movement and bustle all around him. A large hand firmly gripped his shoulder.

'Lighten up a bit, Art, this is supposed to be exciting!', his brother Theseus said, grinning. 'You won't make any friends if you keep your eyes locked on the floor. I'll be with you every step of the way, there's no need to be so dour!'

His brother meant well, of course. Theseus Scamander: tall and muscular Quiddich star, extroverted popular kid, scored more OWLs than people thought possible. In short, the antithesis of Artemis "Newt" Scamander, the tiny uncoordinated weirdo who could only look animals in the eye. A puff of black smoke and a bell snapped Newt out of his daydreams. The train was preparing for departure. On the 9 3/4 platform, Newt could see a whole ecosystem of human interaction: crying mothers hugging their little first-years, older students laughing mischievously with the friends they hadn't seen for months.

'I just wish mum and dad were here', Newt whispered to his brother. Theseus sighed, and said, 'Art, you know dad's working and… you know why mum can't come.' Sensing that his younger sibling was wallowing in self-pity, Theseus lifted him off the ground (an easier task than you'd imagine), hugged him fiercely and exclaimed, 'So I'm not good enough for you, huh? I see how it is!' Newt giggled slightly against the rough wool of Theseus' red and gold scarf. But, as all safe moments must, the hug ended, and Newt was shown into the first-years compartment while Theseus headed for the sixth-years', promising he'd meet up with Newt as soon as they arrived at the castle.

Newt stepped solemnly into the train, eyes glued to the floor. 'Can I take your bag, sweetie?', a grinning older woman said to him. He handed the woman his suitcase, and muttered a soft, 'Thank you', under his breath. A voice blasted telepathically in everyone's heads, 'TRAIN LEAVING IN FIVE MINUTES. PLEASE FIND YOUR SEATS. THANK YOU.' Newt took a deep breath. This way going to be a long ride.

Just as the dark cloud around his head started to thicken at the thought of having to, _gasp!_ , sit down next to a stranger, he felt something scratching the bottom of his cloak. A cat, a black cat, a cat so black its fur almost seemed to shine blue. It hissed at him, baring its sharp teeth. Newt smiled for the first time in what seemed like days, 'Well, hello there.' He bent down to pick the dark cat up, whose growling stopped almost immediately after Newt touched it. He stroked the feline who seemed to have lost all its aggression as it went almost limp in Newt's arms, purring and pawing at his face. _Now who do you belong to…_ , Newt thought, nervous at the idea of having to ask strangers whether, maybe, perhaps, have you seen this cat before? No? Not yours? Do you know whose it might be? His worries never came true, however, seeing as the owner in question was just down the train's hall, though Newt didn't know it yet.

Her hair was as pitch-black as the cat's fur, her features sharp and striking, with dark eyes and an (already) tall and skinny body. All the ingredients for a natural beauty, except for one: the ability to 'fit in'. No matter how pretty, or clever, or skinny you are, people can see immediately if there's the slightest bit of insecurity, of hesitation, of clumsiness, or whatever you might call 'quirkiness'. It was clear that this girl was far from being comfortable in her surroundings, her perfect nails bit down to the quick, her lovely pale skin covered in (cat) scratches, her hair unbrushed and her posture, hunched. She seemed to be unaware of any social convention: she laughed loudly at unfunny jokes, she would just up and leave in the middle of a conversation, and she could burst into tears at the drop of a hat. _A shame_ , her mother's friends would say, _but I suppose Leda's still a good girl, nice features; there's still time for her_. They'd laugh. _She has no excuse_ , her mother would respond sternly, _She has a deep family behind her and never lacks for anything. She's doing it deliberately, behaving like this. I can hardly stand it anymore_. Her mother's friends wouldn't laugh at that, but rather look sadly at the girl, wishing (for her sake, perhaps) that she hadn't been born so different.

Spotting her ebony cat from across the hall, she let out a sigh of relief, 'Nocturna! Oh, thank Merlin!' She took great strides towards the tiny, freckled awkward-looking boy whose arms gently cradled the docile kitten. Remembering her manners (for once), she said to the boy, 'Thank you for finding her! I'm really grateful. She always goes off when I'm not looking. I suppose some cats are just like that,' she laughed loudly, 'So, who are you? I've never seen you before. Which family are you from? You're not ginger enough to be a Weasley, but your hair isn't dark enough to be a Black, and I've never seen you at any of my parents' parties before, so, who are you, mysterious stranger? Huh? What's your name?' Her eyes flicked across his body, seeming to analyze every inch of him. Newt was understandably about ready to faint by this point; not only had he suddenly come face to face with someone strange, chatty, and who had a fixating gaze (his worst nightmare), but of course she had to be a _girl_ as well, a _pretty_ girl, because Fate obviously hated him. It would not, then, be a shock to the reader to find that Newt had responded with such a witty, elegant and sociable answer as, 'Uh… yes.'

Despite the odd response, the girl wasn't deterred. 'Okay, "Uh, yes", what a nice name. You wanna sit in the same compartment as me? Nocturna seems to really like you, so that wouldn't be a problem, right? My name is Leta, Leta Lestrange, by the way; you might have heard of my family.' Years later, Newt would realize that it was his hatred of conflict, his eagerness to be bustled, his desire to go with the flow that had led to some of the best, and worst, moments of his life at Hogwarts. His simple response would change the rest of his life, for better or worse:

'Uh, su-sure.'


End file.
